


godspeed, all the bakers at dawn

by svladcjelli



Series: pick my colour pick my day (Modern AU) [2]
Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: ADHD Tom Blake, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autistic William Schofield, Hurt/Comfort, It is, M/M, again uuuh its not outwardly said but, another will centric ill do tom soon i promise, can be a standalone, damn ma is it that serious, they r def neurodivergent here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24470119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svladcjelli/pseuds/svladcjelli
Summary: Some days are worse than others for Will, but that's okay. (He knows someone who helps him through it.)
Relationships: Tom Blake/William Schofield
Series: pick my colour pick my day (Modern AU) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759222
Comments: 12
Kudos: 44





	godspeed, all the bakers at dawn

**Author's Note:**

> whew!! part 2 here we go!!!! thank you alex from the 2nd devons for the general idea of this, id be absolutely lost without you (though i did change the idea up quite a bit i reckon). hope u enjoy!!!!

Life had ups and downs. That was normal, just another part of living, but it was certainly a lot harder when you were different _._

Because that's what they were. They were abnormal, anomalous, deviant, _different_ but together, maybe it was okay. Together, they could make it through. 

It was a Tuesday. Tuesdays were a lot of things- the third day of the week that felt more like the second, Tom's second workday, Will's early-morning classes, and a word holding the odd association with the colour orange. Thinking to hard about the days would cause the underbelly of anxiety to surface, the questioning of time and events would cause Will's thoughts to spiral more than he cared for.

Instead, he focused on good things- the fact he woke up on time (next to Tom), the rain didn't fall too hard, and the bus wasn't as crowded as usual, effectively giving Will room to breathe. It was nice, he thought, to feel so serene. The previous week had been tougher than he anticipated- but how could you anticipate a bad week?- but as his classes went smoothly, he considered it the world's way of making up for his struggles of last week. _It was nice,_ he decided (again).

On Tuesdays, Tom made it home- _their_ home- just before Will. It was still odd to come home to someone other than Rose and her kids, still buzzing from and dying to tell him about their school day, but it had gotten better with time. Though he missed them and the constant clamor in the home, he couldn't be happier living with the man he loved. 

Walking through the door, Myrtle was the first to greet him. She was a big dog, being a Bernese Mountain Dog, completely full grown but still seemed to forget her size as she had the excitement and personality of a month-old puppy. According to Tom, she had calmed down considerably over the years which only made Will ponder on what type of puppy she was. Unfortunately for him, he never had a dog and therefore had no fucking clue how to act around one. 

Myrtle didn't jump, instead settling for circling around his legs while her tail wagged wildly behind her. He awkwardly stood in the hallway, not exactly knowing where to put his feet as he hung up his coat and dropped his bag to the floor. 

"I told'ya she likes you!" 

Hearing that voice made something swell in Will's heart. He kicked off his shoes and Myrtle followed his sock-padded footsteps to the divide of the kitchen and the living room, a bit to the right towards the kitchen where Tom sat at a table. It was a small thing, but a large dinner table wasn't exactly needed when there were only a few people in the house at once. Tom sat in the left chair (as always) with a laptop sat on the tabletop, both hands typing away at the keyboard. 

Will wandered to the kitchen and set on the kettle, grabbed two mugs (one featured frog playing a banjo and the other was in the shape of Gromit from _Wallace and Gromit_ ) from the cupboard and sett them down on the counter near the kettle while waiting for the water to boil. Myrtle lied on the floor, completely relaxed and seemingly boneless as she contently watched him work. He fished out leftover pasta made the previous night because, like always, they had leftovers on Tuesdays. 

"How was work then, love?" Will inquired, throwing the cold leftovers into a pan on the stove. He tossed the empty containers into the sink, filling them both up with water so they could soak. 

From the table, Tom chuckled. 

"Just the same. Each one of those kids are brilliant, I'm sayin'- like this lad 'ere, he's drawn a dolphin jus' by usin' sequins!" Tom turned the laptop just enough for Will to see the screen displaying a child's assignment. He'd never say it, but it didn't look anything like a dolphin. Will smiled and nodded anyway, seeing how happy it made Tom. 

"On its own, I know it don't look like much. But I see how much work they put into these things and every single one of 'em is clutch." Tom turned the laptop back to face himself. 

There was a welcomed silence, albeit the television running _Hollyoaks-_ a background noise that came on at five in the evening every weekday. 

"You gonna tell me how your day was, then?" 

Will chuckled as he split the reheated pasta onto two plates. "Great. Nothin' really new, but that's normal for a college for pastry chefs." 

Tom cleared the table and Will set down the plates and mugs. They hadn't been living together long, but there was already a normalcy to the domesticity they lived in. 

It was nice, Tom thought. 

"Y'told me you were readin' a book this mornin', what was it?" Tom spoke with a mouthful of pasta. 

" _Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit?_ You wanna hear 'bout it? Really?" There was an excitement pooling in Will's stomach and he began to bounce his leg. 

"Always." 

And with it all came a subtle harmony- an unspoken synchrony between the two. 

It was a good day. 

The next day was a Wednesday. Like Tuesdays, Wednesdays were a lot of things. The fourth day of the week that felt more like the third and an association with the colour yellow. Yellow was a good colour- happy, excited, warm- but Will's start to the day was anything but that. 

Tom got up before him on Wednesdays, that's the way it always was. Will didn't have classes until nine in the morning or 'a reasonable time' as Tom so-often called it. He had slept through his alarm and would have slept longer too if it weren't for Myrtle who jumped up on the bed. She must have been annoyed with the steady beeping of the alarm, just as Will would have been if he were awake for it. 

The shift of the weight on the bed is what woke him, as he was positive Tom had already left that morning. He shut off the alarm first, as the beeping immediately hurt his ears. Myrtle jumped down from the bed and Will swung his legs over the edge of the bed, glancing at the dastardly clock that read _8:34._ Eight thirty-four? Oh God, eight thirty-four! 

"Oh no, oh no, oh no-" Will muttered under his breath as he moved as quickly as he could through his morning routine- brushing his teeth, throwing on clothes and mismatched socks, grabbing the packed lunch Tom made him from the counter (not forgetting the sticky note that read 'Have a good day, baby x')- it was all a blur. Before he knew it, he threw on his trainers and jacket, grabbed his bag and was out the door in a hurry. 

By the time he made it to the bus stop, he was out of breath. He checked his wristwatch- _8:43-_ the bus was late. It was fucking late- the bus was fucking _late._

Through a lot of running and perseverance, Will made it to class on time. _9:00_ his wristwatch told him. Ten minutes past and while Mr. Smith wasn't often late, it seemed one of those rare occasions- until a new instructor walked behind the metal table. The first thing Will noticed was his absolutely terrifying demeanor. 

"I'm Mackenzie and I'll be the substitute for today." 

Fuck.

"I don't know where Smith left off, someone hand me their notes please." Mackenzie looked around the room, pointing out Will, "You. Give it here, let me see what you've got written down. And quickly." 

In an instant, Will's stomach sank. Suddenly the whole class' eyes were focused on him and only him as he fumbled through his book bag, searching for a notebook that just wasn't there. He must had been so rushed that morning he left it on his desk and God, could he be any more stupid? 

"Now, please." Mackenzie urged. Will knew Smith would never put him on the spot like that. 

"I.. I left them at home, sir. I'm sorry-" 

"Fine. Don't let it happen again." 

And the class continued as if nothing happened, but Will's heart wouldn't leave his throat. It would be okay, he told himself, it was fine. 

The walk from the campus to the bus stop didn't make anything better. On another day, Will could've taken the time to clear his head and yet the weather had to turn on him. It was pouring rain, the rain drops coming down heavier than ever. It wasn't the rain that bothered him, it was the way his clothes stuck to his skin from the dampness of cloth. 

On the bus, Will shivered. Wednesdays weren't supposed to have late starts or substitute teachers or too-damp sweaters. 

It was a bad day. 

Moving his limbs from the bus stop to the front door of Will and Tom's flat felt like a chore and he relied more on instinctual memory to carry him back home. His arms felt like lead as he searched for the keys normally left in his right jacket pocket, cringing at the feeling of wet fabric. Loose change and a Freddo wrapper later, no keys were found in his pockets and he just wanted to be inside with Tom where it was warm and safe and everything would be okay. 

Because Tom made him feel okay. 

And he'd be okay if he could find his _fucking_ keys but no, no of course he was so _so_ _stupid_ and left them inside. He grabbed his phone with hands that couldn't stop shaking, quickly unlocking it before texting Tom. He supposed calling would be faster and easier but he'd be shocked if he could even find the words to say. 

_'No keys. Pls opn door'_

Any other time, he would've cursed himself and laughed at the absurd amount of typos in a single sentence but with a fully trembling body he couldn't find himself to care. 

On the other side of the door, Tom knew something was wrong. 

_'ok'_

In an instant, the door opened to a rain-soaked Will. He looked miserable, everything about him screamed 'leave me alone.' Tom opened the door enough to let Will inside who hurriedly ran through his routine of hanging his coat, kicking off his shoes, and dropping his bag in that exact order. Despite everything Tom felt in that moment, he knew Will needed that normalcy and didn't intervene. 

It was when Will walked to the bedroom instead of the kitchen that Tom knew he needed to act before things could escalate- he knew Will and all those funny little thoughts that got caught up and jumbled in his mind, and he knew Will's brilliance and compassion all came at a cost. 

Will sat next to the right side of the bed (his side of the bed) with his knees completely drawn to his chest, still shivering like he had been caught in a blizzard. Myrtle followed them both into the bedroom and Tom searched for any signs her presence made things worse. 

"You okay, love?" Tom spoke in a somewhat hushed tone. 

Will took a minute, but Tom had all the time in the world. 

"Fine." He croaked out, he looked anything but. 

Tom nearly laughed. 

"C'mon then, let's get you dry." 

Tom helped him into dry clothes and Will felt infinitely better. It was like a light switch, Tom thought, seeing Will go from completely disconsolate to somewhere near okay within the span of a couple minutes. 

"'s that better?" 

Will nodded, "Thank you." 

Tom helped him into bed, crawling right next to him. Will could hear _Hollyoaks_ play from the living room and the air smelled of those snickerdoodle candles Tom adored, both constants in his life that made him feel okay again.

"Don't worry 'bout dinner, either. Already ordered takeaway." 

Will chuckled. "I love you." 

"I love you too." 

It was a shit day but despite it all they had each other- and that was enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so so so much for readin!!! comment anythin u wanna see!! i always need ideas  
> (come yell at me on tumblr : @svlad-gently)


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